Treacherous Betrayal & My Little Secret
by Aly'n'AJ
Summary: Ginny Weasley has finally decided to change the image her brothers ohsokindly made for her at Hogwarts, and she's making friends. One of those friends isn't exactly someone her family would approve of, but he's her little secret and it's staying that way.


**Title: Treacherous Betrayal...& My Little Secret**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: D/G**

**Genre: Romance/Angst**

**Period: 7 year, starts at about the first month of school. Sixth year did not happen.**

**Summary: When Ginny Weasley enters Hogwarts as a sixth year, she tries to create a new image for her self, but what she never gets to understand why it seems to be working - with excruciating slowness, but it's working! And receiving one hell of a surprise was never in her plans.**

**A/N: Hi! This is my second fanfic, and I hope it's a lot better than my first! This one I'm hoping to make a little bit more sophisticated and a little bit more into the lives of Ginny and her family. If I overexaggerate the characters, please tell me, because that is something I do not want to do. Well, R&R please and tell me how well I'm doing. By the way, please give me five reviews so I can continue! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!**

Chapter One / Sounding Nice

She sat there, swaying with the wind as she read the last page of the textbook. Her eyes stared at the paper, hard and unblinking. Within the first few months at school, Ginny had hopelessly wished for the impossible – being accepted as who she was – a bookworm, a true friend, and an honest and down-to-earth human being. But all that went to the dumps when she was accosted by the King of Slytherin – the almighty Draco Malfoy.

He had sneered at her, quietly feeding her poison through his teeth, with no mercy. Tears had welled up in her eyes as she listened to the name-calling, seeing that there was going to be no end to this torture.

She shut her book quietly and silently, listening to the rustling of the leaves through the cold night air. It was only the third week of school and she was already prepared to leave for home. Ron had told her his intentions – getting through the NEWTs and then completely moving on. Apparently, as he had told her, he was hoping to either start working with the Ministry of Magic or help Harry take on you-know-who.

In her own opinion, Ron would be better off working along with their father rather that off battling the strongest, most evil wizard ever known. But of course, it was his decision to make – seeing as Harry was his best friend.

And she decided that by the end of this school year, she would have her mind made up about what she wanted to become as well. It was a hard choice to make and Ginny was not ready for it in the least.

Hermione and Harry, though were dead set on their intentions. Harry was going to attept to kill Voldemort and Hermione was going to live her entire life trying to find a cure for some sort of Muggle sickness called the libra...or aqua...Ginny wasn't entirely sure at this point, all she knew was that it was one of those things that you have for the month you are born in or something... (A/N – for those of you who are clueless, it's actually called a Zodiac sign)

Either way, Ginny was feeling jealous – bacause she still had no idea what the value in her life was. She had wanted to become an Auror in the early years of her life, but when she had met Harry, she'd quickly changed her mind, seeing how hard it really was on him.

She stood up from her hidden spot under the willow tree facing out toward the lake. It was a calm, cloudless day and there hadn't been any rain for weeks. Checking for all her belongings, the sixth year walked around the thick trunk of the tree and started up toward the castle when a familiar voice caught up with her.

"Have a nice reading session, weasel?"

Scoffing, she turned abruptly in her spot and looked at the ungrateful stranger. Malfoy. She wondered sometimes whether it was his family that had made him like this. A mean, unloving, uncaring, cruel creature. Or whether he was born like that. It might just be a family trait. But other times she truly didn't care. She wanted to be immune to his rude remarks and comments.

It was only a matter of seconds before she rolled her eyes and turned away, walking up the steep hill once more.

"What was that, you little mudblood lover?" his harsh voice followed after her.

She drew a quick breath and looked at him again. His blond hair fell into his eyes in soft locks. Those grayish blue orbs that were glaring at her now. His skin was pale and perfectly even, with not one sign of a bump. An even nose, pale pink lips, straight chin. And then his clothes. They were robes, neatly ironed and stacked in thin layers over his school clothes. No male in the school stood to compete with this one, whose body was more beautiful than the sky. Well, maybe not that good, but it's only a small exaggeration. His fingers were long and thin, nails perfectly cut. And his lean, yet toned body somehow shone through his overcoat and robe.

A small smile played at the corners of her lips as she examined him quickly. She was actually _examining_ him! But who was to blame her? Yes, their families had fought for over thousands of years, and yes, they were complete opposites, but she was, if anything, a female teenager with raging hormones and lately, she had paid close attention to boys, whether she liked it or not. And it was true, wasn't it, that in a lot of romance novels that you read every day, the good girl falls for the bad boy? (A/N: notice the irony!)

She stood straighter as she ansered him, "Shove it, Malfoy. I'm really not up for your stupid remarks today."

"Oh, but I am. See, unlike you, I have something that very little families do. And that is wealth. I can use it for anything I want. And this year, my father used it on a little thing called Quidditch robes. They were made exclusively for our team and you can bet anything that we will win. So before you go around carrying a little flag saying 'Gryffindors Always Win'," he smirked, pointing to her robes, on the collar of which was tiny supportive flag with those exact words, "try and think ahead. because you know that it's not true in the least. I will see to it that you never will. Oh, and tell your brother that he will pay for what he said to me on the pitch this afternoon, whether he can afford it or not," and with a swish of his robes, he walked away.

She looked at his disappearing figure tentatively, as if considering her options – tell him off or ignore him. She made up her mind hurriedly.

"You know what, you selfish idiot?" she called after him as she advanced to the speed of his pace. He turned to her with a smirk already framing his mouth. "I do not have to do anything for you, and neither do any of my brothers. And anyway, who in the hell are you," she told him, poking him square in the chest with a well-manicured finger, at which he jumped a meter away from her immediately, "to even tell me what to do? I have had no reason whatsoever to even listen to your drivel, but to expect me to follow your stupidly annoying orders is way beyond the limits. Now get out of my face before I hurt you!" And with that, she stormed off.

The next few weeks, Ginny rarely saw Malfoy anywhere, not even in the halls. Not that it bothered her. No. Not in the least. Harry, Ron, Seamus, Luna, Neville, Hannah, and Hermione were good enough for her. It was sort of like being surrounded by family, but it was less awkward.

One afternoon, she was studying under the willow tree outside when a tall figure accosted her silently. She looked up from her Potions book and saw none other than Malfoy. The strangest thing she noticed about his appearance, other than the Muggle-type jeans, black button-up shirt and Muggle shoes, was that on his face, she found absolutely no trace of a smirk.

As the sun's rays hit her square in the eyes, she brought them down and quietly looked at the ground next to him, waiting for him to speak. When after a few minutes he didn't, she looked back at her book and resumed reading. Vaguely, she felt him kneel and sit beside her, but paid no mind to it. When he began speaking, it sliced the tranquil of the shade so suddenly, Ginny half-jumped in her seat. She looked at him, amused.

"I was sent here by McGonagall to retrieve you and take you to her office. She has some big meeting for the prefects. Not that I'm enjoying this here. I don't really enjoy looking at you, in the least." He said roughly, with disgust written all over his handsome face.

Strangely, Ginny felt no guilt thinking of him that way. Who was to know about it but her? She looked straight at his eyes, wearily watching him. He didn't even turn his head toward her. And she was glad, in a way. If he saw her studying him like that, he might think of more acrimonious insults to throw at her.

Suddenly and with above average force, she threw down her closed book and stood up gracefully, wiping off any stray leaves off of her Muggle jeans and top. Finally, she turned to look down at him, in such a way that got him to finally look up at her and smirk. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she scowled down at him.

"Thanks for that little show, Malfoy. It was certainly entertaining, but I can't figure out whether to believe you or not. I mean, as you know, you didn't have to sit beside me - which you did. You didn't have to add that last part if you didn't want to even talk to me - which you did. And, yes. Thanks for the message. I'll get to it immediately." As she leaned down to grab her book off the ground, she faintly heard Malfoy hum. At first, she figured she was imagining things, but then as she listened closer, she could make out a rhythm.

"Malfoy, are you singing?" she said softly. He stopped immediately and didn't look at her, simply clearing his throat. She supressed a smile as she said, "It sounded nice... You sounded nice." And she stood there for a moment, looking at him straight in the eyes as he looked back at her, surprised.

After a few seconds passed, she turned around and headed up the castle with not another glance back.


End file.
